There’s a monster in the mall this Christmas... and it’s me, writes Catherine Nikas-Boulos

THE Christmas tree is up, the newly-bought malfunctioning, outdoor lights occasionally flash in unison and shopping for the naughty and nice has begun in earnest, kinda.

Expectant mother Catherine Nikas-Boulos models an allure blue maternity shirt dress by Queen Bee maternity in Sydney.

THE Christmas tree is up, the newly-bought malfunctioning, outdoor lights occasionally flash in unison and shopping for the naughty and nice has begun in earnest, kinda.

Last year, the Christmas shopping was all done mid-year. Nothing like half-yearly sales to inspire a mad surge in credit card spending, half-guessing people’s sizes and deciding someone who has worn all-black for their entire adult life would love a splash of pink in their wardrobe.

Of course, my children were the easiest — three little people that I know better than anyone else on this planet, right? What I didn’t anticipate was the fact that six months is a loooong time and what they loved a month ago, is so passe now. So this year, I allowed my beloveds to pick their own presents. Adults were coy and uncomfortable, ­almost never telling me what they actually wanted. Cut the BS, just tell me what you want so I don’t have to trudge with other last-minute shoppers in a mad daze.

The children were only too happy to hand over their Santa dream-list. Entirely missing the point of Christmas (Jesus only got three gifts, after all), I was impressed, if not a little over-awed by their honesty. I have scoured every shopping mall in search of the weird and wonderful to fulfil their Christmas wishes. I have stalked a shopper through a toy store as she strolled through the aisles with the last of a particular Elsa doll humming “Let it go, let it go” in her wake, and had a heated conversation with a nerdy sales kid about Minecraft.

Nothing like the most celebratory time of year to turn into a monster, but if you don’t get your growl on you won’t make it.

Forget fasting and confession, if you really want to repent your sins, wait until the week of Christmas to join the un-festive throng in the mall.

Nothing like the most celebratory time of year to turn into a monster, but if you don’t get your growl on you won’t make it. I thought I was doing quite well, having paid through the nose to get everyone what they wanted. It was only when I gave one young relative her early gift I realised not everything will be merry this year. Said child burst into tears. “I didn’t want THIS one!”

Next year, I will buy everyone a heifer for Christmas. Not only would a village in East Africa be better off, but I’m guessing the most needy in the world don’t give a damn about what colour, size or Disney character their cow is named after.